Holding Guns And Holding Hands
by Your Angel of Music
Summary: Jack is a sexual adventurer trapped in a backwards time. Ianto has lived his whole life in a world that refuses to accept him. They were bound to discuss the prejudices in our society at some point; and it could only happen in bed. Jack/Ianto.


**Title:** Holding Guns and Holding Hands

**Characters/Pairings:** Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones

**Rating/Warnings: **M, rated for sexual references and language

**Summary: **Jack is a sexual adventurer trapped in a backwards time. Ianto has lived his whole life in a world that refuses to accept him. They were bound to discuss the prejudices in our society at some point; and it could only happen in bed.

**A/N:** This was written for the International Day Against Homophobia, which takes place on Monday 17th May.

**Dedication:** Dedicated to my mother for being willing to let me make her "read your smut" (in her words).

**Disclaimer:** Torchwood and its affiliates belong to Russell T Davies and the BBC. I make no profit from this. All characters are of legal age for sexual situations.

* * *

**Holding Guns And Holding Hands**

_"Why is it that, as a culture, we are more comfortable seeing two men holding guns than holding hands?"_

_~Ernest Gaines_

_"People who can't think of anything else but whether the person you love is indented or convex should be doomed not to think of anything else but that, and so miss the other ninety-five percent of life."_

_~Robert Towne_

Ianto's breath was hot and quivering on Jack's neck as he came down from his high, his fingers gripping tightly enough onto his forearms to leave bruises. Jack could feel the blood rising to the surface beneath the pressure of Ianto's grip, every nerve of his body alive and singing with the remnants of his orgasm.

This was one of the many things that he loved about sex – that lingering sensual awareness that came with the afterglow, the feeling of Ianto's bulk pressed and moulded against him, the heavy _huff_ of Ianto's breath burning on his highly sensitised skin. He hummed contentedly, his fingernails tapping out a pattern on the now heavily-scratched pale flesh of Ianto's back.

This century, he had decided long ago, was so incredibly set in its own ways that it would have been laughable, if it wasn't so tragic. So confined to its stereotypes, so imprisoned in its suits and office blocks, that it was embarrassed to admit to that raw beauty that lay beneath the surface. That's why Jack loved the act of carefully stripping away each layer of self-consciousness and dishonesty, allowing his partner, whatever gender, or even species, to revel in their true self, if only for a short while.

Ianto was perhaps one of his most successful pupils. Just the memory of this young Welshman, his suits torn from his body, his skin flushed and gleaming with sweat as he left every inch of his former persona behind, was enough for Jack to feel a slight stirring in his groin once again. Beneath Ianto's veneer, he thought as he tightened his grip on those shoulders, still shaking with the aftershocks, was a wicked and wonderful mind, a need to please and be pleased that was difficult and highly satisfying to sate. Jack had always known there was something, but the extent of it that shone through when Ianto truly came undone was stunning and awe-inspiring.

If only the time in which he lived allowed him to truly set himself free, rather than keeping him imprisoned behind the bars of the propriety that had been drummed into him from a young age.

Jack sighed, his fingers carding through the tangled, damp locks of Ianto's hair, gripping just tightly enough to cause a tug on the jangling nerves of the younger man. With the movement Ianto pulled back from where his face had been nestled in Jack's neck, transferring his weight to his elbows as he shifted to survey the mess he knew they had made.

Stretching his arms behind his head, Jack groaned with disappointment as Ianto pulled out of him, flopping back to prop himself on his hands and watching as the young man crawled off him and out of the bed. He felt pleasantly tingly, and he smirked slightly as he eyed Ianto's naked form headed towards the bathroom, drinking in the view and delighting in the fact that the Welshman was slightly wobbly on his legs. It was always a good feeling to know that he'd had that lasting effect on someone; that he'd been able to take something he loved and share that with somebody else.

Knocking his knuckles restlessly against the headboard, he grimaced slightly at the drying mess on his stomach, suddenly grateful that Ianto, of the two of them, had the good sense to do something about it. He honestly didn't feel as though he had the energy to stand up; his ligaments felt as though they had been turned into jelly. A smile crept onto his face.

It hadn't been long into the beginning of their…whatever it was they had…that Jack had discovered that Ianto's _yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir_ veneer did not extend to the bedroom. And he'd been intensely grateful for it; as much coaching as Ianto had obviously needed, he was a quick learner and by no means the innocent virgin, even if his experience with men was fleeting. After a long day playing the role of the Captain, the boss, the one in charge, in control and the one with the responsibility, there was nothing Jack liked more than to relinquish control and put himself in the hands of someone else. Fortunately for him, Ianto was eager to establish their equality outside of the working environment, a desire Jack was happy to accommodate.

It had been a long time since he'd felt so thoroughly shagged. He'd forgotten how good it felt.

Quickly growing bored, he scrambled at the bedside cabinet for Ianto's television remote, turning on the grey box as soon as he had a grip on his prize. He felt obligated to catch up on the days events, as a leader of a top secret organisation rightly should, and, always the one with forethought, Ianto's television was tuned to the nearest rolling news channel. Forcing himself up in the bed, his head clanging against the headboard as he struggled to keep his spine straight, he focused his gaze on the screen in front of him.

"_A gay couple in Cambridgeshire are suing the owners of a B&B after they were turned away because of their sexuality. _

_The owners of the establishment have said that it was "against their convictions" to let the couple share a bed."_

Jack lifted his eyes as Ianto re-entered the room, smiling gently as he advanced, the look something between an affectionate glance and a leer. Rolling his eyes at the not-very-well-hidden lust in Jack's expression, the younger man cleaned them both gently with a wet towel, the sensation of the warmed cotton against Jack's stomach strangely pleasant. He curled his toes, watching closely as Ianto ran the thick material across his own skin, quietly wishing that that was _his _hand doing the job, preferably minus the towel.

When Ianto threatened to return to wherever it was he had come from, Jack reached out and grabbed his arm, preventing him from moving. Yanking his arm back, he forced the protesting Welshman to drop the towel onto the floor before hoisting him onto the bed beside him. Ianto fell rather ungainly, one leg hooked across Jack's thigh as he pulled himself into a slightly more dignified position, his shoulder brushing against Jack's as he propped himself up. Turning to Jack with an indignant expression, he opened his mouth crossly. Whatever rebuttal he had been planning, however, was forgotten as his eyes focused on the screen, ears pricked as he listened intently.

_"We are rather surprised that Liberty would be so one-sided in a matter of liberty because there are two liberties to uphold in this case._

_"There is a religious liberty to uphold and there is the right for homosexuals to practise what they want to do."_

Ianto sighed before reaching over and wresting the remote from Jack's grip, blackening the screen with one push of a button and flinging the contraption into the corner of the room.

"I don't know how you do it," he flung an arm over his forehead, bending his elbow to massage the bridge of his nose. Jack shifted ever so slightly, inching down the bed so that their faces were level.

"Do what?"

"Live _here_, with all this…" he waved his hand in the direction of the television. "…_shit_. I mean, it's alright for me, I've grown up with it, but you…"

He turned to face Jack, his expression not so much angry as resigned, accepting almost of his fate. A small, insincere smile crept onto his face as he studied Jack, seeming to drink in the centuries of wisdom that nestled in the depths of his eyes.

"You're _Jack Harkness_. How does Jack Harkness confine himself to this place that's so…primitive?"

"I didn't really have a choice," Jack sighed, running his fingers idly across his own stomach. "Though, that's not to say I'm not grateful, or that I wished I'd ended up anywhere else. There's a lot about this place that you take for granted."

Ianto raised an eyebrow, the disbelief evident in his expression.

"Ianto, I lived through the end of the 19th century, the whole of the 20th century – I saw the rise of the women, the shattering of the glass ceiling, the legalisation of homosexuality, the end of apartheid. All the progress that, where I come from, we just took for granted." Jack sighed heavily, letting his hand fall onto the bedclothes, brushing ever so slightly against Ianto's fingers as they settled. The young man glanced down at the touch, his body shifting slightly nervously.

"You'd love it where I come from," Jack let out a short laugh, the sound punctuating the relative quiet; they hadn't realised they had been speaking in whispers, almost as if discussing something that should be kept hidden. Ianto felt the bottom fall out of his stomach as he did so – even now, he realised, Jack had to hide so much.

"Beautiful women, beautiful men, all allowed and nothing forbidden. Free to love whoever you want. But this is part of the natural process – humanity's dug itself a hole, and before it can escape it has to find a way out."

"Sometimes the hole feels too deep…" Ianto bit his lips, -hard enough to draw blood; Jack could see pain swirling in his eyes, his cheeks sucked in as he chewed on the inside of his mouth. "There's too many bastards in the world, Jack, trust me."

Ianto could feel an insistent pressure on his arm tugging him, urging him to nestle his cheek against the chest of the older man. He fought the movement instinctively, conceding his arm to drape over Jack's abdomen but keeping his body solidly in position against the pillows. A scowl crept onto his face at Jack's unwanted ministrations.

"I'm not a girl, Jack."

"You see? That's part of the problem. All you young bucks, so insecure about your own masculinity that you're willing to gloss over a part of yourself," Jack scoffed, turning his own body to press against Ianto's in answer to his stoicism. "Until you can let go it won't change, Ianto – the sooner you learn that you're still a man, the better."

As if to prove his point, Jack rested his cheek against the skin of Ianto's shoulder, tucking himself snugly into the contours of his lover's body. Wrapping an arm around him, he splayed a hand across Ianto's flesh, allowing his fingers to play idly with the hair of his chest. Ianto swallowed hard, breathing in Jack's scent as he burrowed closer, the intimate movement sending a wave of electric pulses jarring through him.

"Am I a girl, then, Ianto?" Jack flexed his muscles against Ianto's body, delighting in the delicious shiver that ran through the tense frame, from the tip of his hair to his toes. "Didn't think so. You know, back in Ancient Greece they never had these gender issues – you lot took a huge step backwards somewhere along the line."

Ianto shot him a look, as best he could in their positions.

"You went to Ancient Greece?"

"Briefly," Jack shrugged, his shoulder brushing against Ianto's skin, causing delicious friction. "They were a hell of a lot of fun, completely unfazed by the flexibility of human sexuality and willing to take it as far as could go. Especially Plato – greatest thinker of his time that man, but a hopeless romantic to boot; he came up with the theory that we are in fact one person split in two, and that we are searching for our other half. Although he was one hell of a kinky bastard, so he was probably just trying to get laid; not that anyone ever complained. I certainly didn't."

"I never know whether to believe you or not."

"And isn't that just part of the fun?" Jack grinned, hooking a leg over Ianto's and raising himself up on his elbow. "But my point still stands. Somewhere along the lines you all developed this fear of emasculating yourselves, coz it definitely wasn't there before. The moment someone decided taking it up the ass made you feminine and submissive, you all ran away. Now you look me in the eyes and tell me that makes you less of a man."

Ianto smirked.

"I wouldn't know. I wasn't the one taking it."

A growl rumbled from Jack's chest, sending enough vibrations through Ianto's body to distract him before he found himself pinned to the bed, the older man straddling his waist. Catching hold of Ianto's wrists with one hand, he forced them against the headboard, holding him in place whilst the other trailed small circles across his flesh, descending dangerously with each rotation. Ianto bit back a moan as Jack shifted his position ever so slightly, his face hovering so close that Ianto could feel the tips of his stubble against his lips.

"It's not your fault you're so uptight," Jack mumbled, his tongue flicking out to moisten his lips ever-so-temptingly. "You can't help it. It's how you were raised." He leaned forward as Ianto raised his head to meet him, mouths meshing messily in a coming together of battling tongues and teeth. Thankfully for Ianto, Jack was quick to release his hands, allowing him to cup the back of Jack's head as they kissed, fingers tangling in unkempt hair.

Suddenly, however, Ianto pulled back, keeping one hand entwined with Jack's hair as the other descended to rest firmly on his hip. Jack cocked his head in reply, sensing that there was something Ianto wanted to ask, knowing he was uncertain of how to phrase it. He settled back onto his haunches a little, waiting patiently; Ianto hated asking questions, despised prying too hard, but there was something stirring beneath the surface of his eyes, a longing that told Jack there was just something he _had_ to know.

Eventually, Ianto licked his lips.

"What was it like?"

"It wasn't easy," Jack was matter-of-fact, but Ianto could hear a tremor of sadness ringing in his voice. "I'd never had to hide that part of me before. It wasn't used to being hidden, and it got me in trouble on quite a few occasions. I was locked up a few times, all the way up to the 60s. But that wasn't the hardest part… it was people's reactions."

The immortal sighed, rolling back so that he and Ianto were splayed on their sides, tips of noses almost touching as he spoke.

"I'd read about it, of course, in the history books, but that was _nothing_ compared to being there. Sure, it was exciting, getting to see the fight and appreciate all that courage but…" he paused, biting his lip. "It was always one step forward, two steps back. You had free love, Stonewall, all that acceptance and then _wham_: AIDS, panic, fear, everything rewinding. It's not recovered from that."

Ianto smiled.

"I never took you for an activist."

"I wasn't. That's one thing I always knew, _never get involved_. I was a spectator, most of the time, just watching history unfold. But it still hurt – I saw kids getting beaten up fighting for something that I always had, something I always saw as no different. I knew people – you couldn't help but admire them – who used sex as a way of asserting themselves, as a way of fighting back, and I couldn't even warn them that they had to be safe because no one knew the risks that were just around the corner. I knew, and I couldn't _do_ anything."

Ianto felt Jack's body tense beside him, a slight quiver running through him. His lover, he realised, was a tinder box of emotion, heartbreak and wisdom running through him, threatening to break free. The effort it took for Jack to hold it back on a daily basis was monumental; the amount of emotional and physical energy he used up with every passing second in order to keep himself from falling apart would be enough to shatter anyone else. Ianto respected and admired that – it was what set Jack apart from the rest of them, what made him their _leader_.

Resting his hand against Jack's chest, he splayed his fingers out, letting the pads move ever so gently against the throbbing skin above his heart.

"I'm sorry, Jack."

"Don't be. I wish you could have seen it, the era before the virus took over. They were getting somewhere, and if I didn't know better I'd have thought that was the breakthrough you lot needed."

"Maybe so, but it wouldn't have made any difference," Ianto sighed, keeping up the pressure against Jack's chest more out of comfort for himself than Jack's own needs. "I'd still have had the same family, the same dogma. I'd have been the one hiding in the corner, even if the rest of the world was out and proud. And it wasn't that I didn't _like_ girls. I did, just not enough to please anyone. I didn't fit anywhere. I still don't."

Jack watched as the eyes of his young companion misted over ever so slightly, his lips tightening into a thin line as he spoke. He could see that Ianto wasn't all there, that there was a part of him hovering outside of them both, thinking and hurting and remembering. Ianto didn't lay himself bare very often; in any other state Ianto was fiercely protective of his own mind, refusing to let anyone else in. Reaching out in the only way he knew how, he let his hand slide down Ianto's side, resting softly at his hip, just above the swell of his buttocks.

"It'll get better. There'll be another wave of conservatism, and it'll get worse, but after that it'll get better, I promise. There'll be more acceptance – look at me, I'm proof of that. The world will change, eventually; it's just struggling to find its starting post. Give it time."

"That's just the problem, Jack. I don't think I have that much time to give."

Sucking in air through his teeth to bite back the short stab of pain that hit him, Jack dug his fingers into the flesh beneath his hand, causing Ianto to exhale sharply. The hand at the immortal's heart twitched slightly in response, the fingernails exerting a slight pressure on his skin.

"It's happening _now_, Ianto_._ The legal battles have already been won, the fight for political equality is as good as over. I was arrested, beaten to a bloody pulp, _legally,_ for daring to have sex with another guy, and now we can be lying here, fucking our brains out loudly enough so the neighbours can hear us, without that fear."

"We could still get an ASBO, you know. I heard Mrs Jenkins threatening to report us to the council. Something about _lewd behaviour_ and _excessive noise levels_…"

Jack laughed, drawing Ianto closer and pressing their foreheads together.

"You know something, Jones Ianto Jones? You're the new wave: the next generation of freedom fighter. Only you're not doing it by parading around the streets wearing eyeliner and jumping into the first tight ass you can find – though, if you do decide to do any of the above, make sure you call me first," Jack squirmed away from the thump that Ianto landed on his chest, grinning brightly.

"Oh no, you're just doing what you do, not really thinking anything of it because, hell, there's nothing wrong with it after all. Sure, you can still be as uptight and repressed as the next person, but you're sure as hell not _ashamed_. Back in the day, I'd meet so many young guys, always telling me it felt _right_ when they were doing it but _wrong_ when they finished. You're different because it doesn't bother you."

"I wouldn't say that, Jack…"

"Think about it, Ianto. What bothers you: what you're doing or other people's reactions to what you're doing?"

Ianto seemed to think for a few moments, his silence and look giving Jack the answer he needed.

"You see?" he nudged Ianto gently. "It's everyone else who has the problem not you, but you knew that already, and _that's_ why you're the next stage. The next logical step, the fight for heart and minds, whatever you want to call it. It'll happen; you're just going to have to trust me on that."

"I do trust you…" Ianto whispered, his voice far too strained for a young man of his age. "It's just…every time I see a story like that, every time I hear a comment on the street…you know we'd get less looks running around with guns than walking down the street holding hands and that just…"

The last time Jack had seen his younger lover this vulnerable, as if the padlock locking him inside himself had been forced open, had been that day when he had crashed back into the lives of his teammate. He'd quickly covered it up, of course, promptly drawing on his already well practised stoic veneer, but not before a little of the insecurity had filtered its way through the gaps.

This was obviously a topic that struck a far harsher chord within Ianto than Jack had realised in the past, for the Welshman to bare himself so completely. So he waited. And, eventually, his patience reaped the rewards he had waited for, as a sad smile split Ianto's features, his hand inching down from Jack's chest to rest on the immortal's hip.

"Promise me one thing?"

Jack nodded.

"When I'm…"Ianto sucked in a resigned breath. "I mean…in the future, when all this is fixed and everything's more as it should be, and you're with any guys who have always had what you had. Promise me that you won't let them forget? Make them appreciate what they have, because I'll be very annoyed if we all went through all this for nothing."

"I won't…I promise," Jack pressed his forehead against Ianto's, feeling that pulse beneath his skin as Ianto inched closer. It wasn't something he wanted to think about, that any of the people he currently called his family would leave him, especially not this fragile young man who had, for some reason, allowed Jack to burrow deeply into his life. But it was something he had to face, something that he could not avoid; Ianto certainly wasn't avoiding it.

"I'll tell them about an incredibly sexy Welshman who made orgasmic coffee and changed the world by being so damned, beautifully _normal_."

Ianto's eyes narrowed.

"I don't know whether I should be offended by that."

Before Jack could open his mouth to argue he found himself pushed onto his back with an armful of said Welshman, his body pressed into the mattress as his arms came up automatically to draw Ianto closer to him.

"Now, before we start wallowing in the depths of our own misery," Ianto grinned wickedly, readjusting his position so that it was _just so_. "I believe you said something about taking it up the arse not being emasculating. Well, Captain, I'm not going to be able to take your word for it unless you support your theory with some evidence…"

* * *

_Unfortunately, the news item used in this fiction is an actual report from the BBC News Website._

_In response to a comment left on this fic (thank you for leaving it!), I'm going to explain myself a little. Ianto reactions towards homophobia have been described as slightly OOC in how homophobia affects him. Since we learn he was raised on a rough council estate type environment, I very much moulded his childhood experiences, as we weren't told much in the show, on my own experiences as a bisexual youth growing up on a rough council estate. It becomes very clear to me that around here, in my environment, the word "gay" us only ever used as an insult (before the age of 12 I didn't know it meant anything else) and, as Jack says in this fiction, the laws may be in place but people are still heavily prejudiced. For example, a recent programme looking into homophobia found that 1/3 of people in the UK think homosexuals are "wrong", and 1/4 feel that they have "too many legal rights". This fiction was more about highlighting people's attitudes rather than highlighting a need for changes in any law. I see that Ianto would be perhaps more privately affected by this than he lets on, as you can see by his timidness in telling his sister about Jack in COE. I also need to clarify that I am not suggesting that Ianto is gay or doesn't love women - describing bisexuality as "liking girls, but not enough" was not me saying that he doesn't like girls very much, it is how I described my own bisexuality; it means that he doesn't like girls exclusively enough to please anybody, he has the capacity to love a man as well as a woman. In my canon, Ianto has always been bisexual rather than it "only being Jack", as all the evidence seems to point towards it._

_Thank you for reading, and constructive criticism is always welcomed!_


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